Through a child's eyes
by Lycanthropia
Summary: An unusual day for Silas in London. Takes place some years before DVC. Don't know why I wrote this. I was tired. Silas could therefore be rather OOC. Oneshot. Simple reviews and constructive criticism are both appreciated.


**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Except Elizabeth, of course, and the strange man in the little white hat .. Uhm, yes.  
Silas doesn't say much, because English is not his first language.

**Through a child's eyes**

Silas was seldom outside his room at the Opus Dei house when he was in London. It was not that he actually enjoyed staying in his dull room, but much like New York and Paris, he found the city unwelcoming and distant. Silas knew painfully well that a person such as himself could never feel at ease or be accepted in a world of prejudice and coldness, so he kept to himself and the people he knew would always care for him – Bishop Aringarosa and his fellow members of Opus Dei. But today, seemingly an ordinary day, he made an exception.

Silas awoke late in the morning, feeling light-headed. He rolled over on his mat to avoid the sunlight streaming in through the single window in his room. Another nightmare of his father and his early years had haunted him in his sleep. Images of his father's angry eyes, scowling face and threats of death flashed before his eyes. Silas' eyes flew open as he sat up, breathing heavily and sweating. He wiped his moist brow with the back of his hand and breathed a sigh of relief. His father was long gone, he was perfectly aware of that. But even now, as an adult, he found it hard to rid himself of the bad dreams and memories that troubled him every so often. He rubbed his temples to ease the throbbing pain in his head. The white colour of the walls hurt his eyes. There was nothing on these walls, except for a figure of the Lord hanging on the cross. It hung beside the window. His eyes quickly scanned over the dark figure. He was reminded of his blessings. He was fed, clothed and he had a humble room to call his own, at least for the duration of his stay in the city. His gaze moved to the outside. Only a few clouds were drifting by his window and the sun was shining. It took him just a few moments to get up from the mat. After stretching his numb limbs, he picked up the spiked belt from the dresser and eyed it. He looked down at his right thigh where the clots of dried blood were like specks on his porcelain skin. He carefully placed it around his thigh and tightened it. Just a few notches. He would still like to be able to tighten it further as the day progressed. He exhaled slowly as he moved to don his robes. It stung, but he reminded himself of how Jesus had to suffer for their sins and thought no more of it. He saw no one on his way out of the building and decided to just skip another meal.

Once he got out on the street, he put on a pair of sun glasses and pulled the hood over his head to protect him from the bright sunlight. He stood still for moment, contemplating which way to go. He did not really care; he was free to do whatever he wanted. He shrugged and turned right. Not many people were on this particular street now as it was just past ten and most people were probably already at work. He was grateful for that. They always stared at him. He did not know whether it was because of his looks under the hood and sun glasses or because he was a monk, but it made him uncomfortable every time someone stopped and gawked openly at him. He had learned from Bishop Aringarosa to merely ignore them, but he still found it difficult after all those years. He could not help but feel like a lesser being because of the way he looked.

Similar thoughts occupied his mind until he found his feet had carried him past the wax museum, Madame Tussauds, and right into the neighbouring park, Regents Park. Silas could not remember the last time he had been in a park, so he was somewhat uneasy about walking around in there. Birds chirped happily. A few young couples were walking around in the sunlight, holding hands. Silas knew he was not supposed to feel anything at the sight of them. But he did. Longing, jealousy, perhaps even desire. He blinked a few times and flexed his leg muscles to feel the barbs of the cilice cutting into his flesh. He then exhaled sharply and slowly but steadily relaxed again. He shook his head at his sinful thoughts and limped towards the small lake he could see from the path he was standing on. A few mothers with their children in strollers were feeding ducks. Some of the animals waddled up to him, probably wanting food from him as well. Silas pushed them away with his foot. They would not budge. He sighed despairingly. It appear they suddenly did as he wanted them to and moved, but an abrupt sharp pain in his right leg, caused by something smashing together with the cilice, told him it was not by his own account. He looked down and saw a little girl lying on her back, looking up at him with curious sapphire blue eyes. She could not possibly have been older than five or six years. He yanked off his gun glasses, pulled down the hood and glared at her as he remembered why he detested children. They were small, noisy, smelly, had unquestionably no appropriate sense of behaviour or control over their actions.

"What do you want?" he snapped. It came out harsher than he had wanted it to. The girl pushed herself off the ground and stared up at him with a smile on her face.

"Where are your wings?" she asked. She spoke with a light Scottish accent. Silas frowned. Clearly, there was something wrong with the child. Perhaps she had mistaken him for someone else?

_Most unlikely_, Silas thought.

"My – my wings?" The young girl grabbed the front of his robe and tugged. With some hesitation, he kneeled down in front of her. The pain caused by the strap around his thigh was faint to him at this very moment. The girl put her hands on his cheeks and tried to shape them another way. She traced the scar under his eye and gingerly touched his alabaster hair. "Yes. You look like an angel," was her simple reply. Silas was dumbfounded. Never in his life had anyone said such words to him nor had anyone ever willingly touched him. And the fact that it was a child made it even the more bizarre. Children were scared of him. Not this one.

"I am no angel," Silas sighed. "I am a monster. A ghost." The girl looked into his eyes. She seemed unmoved by his red eyes.

"But ghosts are invisible. And I see you." It was strange how the girl could make everything look so simple. Of course, she was young. She knew nothing of how cruel and apathetic the world around them could be. Silas averted his eyes to the ground. He noticed the girl moved her feet and felt a sudden jerk. She had grabbed his hand and was now pulling him along with her. She dragged him away from the lake to a bench. It was by the path he had walked on just a few minutes earlier. She had some difficulties getting up on the bench and sitting down on it, but she eventually got it right and he sat down next to her. Her feet dangled over the edge of the bench. She turned her head towards Silas and smiled mischievously. "Can you walk on your hands?" Silas frowned slightly. He had never actually tried or even given it a thought. He had not exactly had a lovely, untroubled childhood where he could run free about and play with the other children.

"No, I can't," he replied. The girl grinned and slid off the bench. She walked around to the grass behind it. She pushed her curly, blonde hair out of her face and bent over so her hands were on the ground.

"I can," she said and the kicked off the ground. It took a few moments for her to find a balance, but within a few seconds she was walking around the bench on her hands. Silas was secretly entertained, but showed no emotion whatsoever. The girl reached a point where she could no longer uphold herself and fell to the ground with a small cry. Silas got to his feet and picked her up from the ground. He set her on the bench again.

"Are you all right?" She nodded, but kept rubbing a red spot on her left knee. He did not know why the girl was here with him. What was she doing alone in the park? "Where is your family?" The girl shrugged.

"I don't know, I left my sister somewhere around the museum." Silas's eyes widened at her response.

"You .. You what?" He quickly stood up and loomed over her. "We must find them right away." She took his hand and gave him her best puppy dog eyes. Silas scanned her eyes. Behind her innocent look, she looked genuinely scared at the mentioning of finding her family.

"No, please, don't. I don't want to listen to her shouting at me for running away again!" Silas was sold right away. He knew exactly what it was like, not wanting to go back to your family. He knew there had to be more behind it than just the scolding, but it was really none of his business, so he decided not to ask. He knew how sensitive children could be. Despite his general dislike for them, he knew a handful of useful things about them.

"What is your name?" She stuck out her hand and smiled again.

"I'm Elizabeth. It's nice to meet you." Silas frowned, but could not help the smile forming on his lips also. His large hand covered hers and he shook it.

"I am Silas and it's nice to meet you too." His French accent was apparent and it made Elizabeth giggle. Her eyes twinkled with mischief.

"You talk funny, angel." She gave him no time to answer as she jumped to the ground and started chasing two ducks that wobbled by. Silas sat back and observed her. He kept the hood down as the sun was hidden behind thin clouds. A couple walked by him. The girl was first to notice him. Her eyes widened in horror and her mouth opened as if she wanted to scream out of the monster she had just spotted. Her boyfriend became aware of him and quickly ushered his girlfriend on. They spoke in hushed voices and kept glancing at him. Silas looked down in shame and angrily covered his head with the hood. He kept his head down and did not detect Elizabeth stopping right in front of him. She lifted his hood to see his face. "Why are you sad? Has someone hurt you?" Silas looked up to meet her gaze.

"Nobody has hurt me." He had just lied to a child. He felt really bad now and was already looking forward to his repentance later. Elizabeth blinked a few times. She took his hand once more and backed away, forcing him to stand up.

"You look sad. You know what makes me happy when I'm sad?" she said thoughtfully. The four-foot child happily dragged him around the park for nearly ten minutes before halting at some type of portable ice cream stand. The ice-cream man, dressed in a red-white striped apron and a little white hat, stared apprehensively at the two. Elizabeth did not care about the looks the man was sending them and happily jumped in front of the sign, showing which flavours he had.

"Ice cream? What flavour would you like?" Silas asked, watching her hair bounce up and down with her movements. Elizabeth took almost a full minute to decide, all while jumping around.

"I – I want chocolate, raspberry a-a-and vanilla!" The situation seemed to make her stutter with excitement. Silas retrieved some money in the pockets of his robe. He counted the coins.

"I have two pounds," he said quietly. He had no idea what three scoops of ice cream cost, but it could not possibly be anything less than three pounds. Elizabeth turned to him and smiled widely, this time showing off her soft dimples. She placed a note in his hand. Fifty pounds. Silas curled his hand around it. He bent down to her so no one could hear what he was saying. He cautiously looked around.

"Where did you get this kind of money?" Elizabeth shrugged again.

"I took it from my sister's purse. She won't need it anyway." She looked up at the ice cream man with anticipation written all over her face. Silas stood up and sighed. Children. Had they absolutely no sense of right and wrong?

"Two ice creams with chocolate, raspberry and vanilla." Silas handed the man the note. The man looked at him with suspicious eyes, but eventually decided the note was valid and handed him the change and the ice creams. Elizabeth stalked right behind Silas as he walked towards another bench. Silas handed her one of the cones as they walked. Elizabeth looked at it like she had found a buried treasure or won loads of toys. Then her smile faded. She noticed how Silas was slumping and looking gloomy. She took his free hand and held on to him tight. Silas turned his head slightly to look at her. Her expression was one of hope. Silas' hand wrapped around hers and they continued walking towards the benches. It all seemed odd in his head. He had not had a single ice cream since he was a child and here he was, eating one with a small child he did not know. But it was nice, for once, to have someone else around him. Silas lifted Elizabeth up on the bench and took a seat himself. Elizabeth dug into the ice cream with enthusiasm. She finished it off in a matter of minutes. Silas was a while longer about it. He made sure to savour the taste and the sensation of something that cold against his teeth and the roof of his mouth. How he could ever have forgotten how it felt to eat an ice cream was beyond him. It was one of the simple joys in life, he figured. He looked at Elizabeth. She was trying to tie her shoelaces. Silas found it hard not to smile at the girl's troubles and her eager attempt at tying them correct. He kneeled down in front of her.

"This is how you do it," he said. He made two loops of the shoelace and tied them around each other. He showed it again with the other shoe. "Bunny ears." Elizabeth giggled. "You try it." She excitedly untied one shoe and did as he had just done. She looked up at him with pride in her eyes when the loops stayed in place. A job well done. He nodded approvingly. "Very nice."

"Why are you dressed like that?" Elizabeth asked out of the blue. Silas raised an eyebrow.

"I am dressed like this because I am a monk," he replied and sat down again next to her. Elizabeth frowned.

"Do you work for God then?" Silas reflected over the question for some moments. It was hard explaining to a child what he did since he was a monk.

"That's one way to put it," he uncertainly began, "I help others find their faith in God. I respect Jesus and I do what God wants me to do." Elizabeth's lips parted in a big smile.

"So you _are_ an angel!" She looked ecstatic. Meeting a real angel. Great stuff for a five year old girl.

"No, I am no angel. I am not dead." _Even though I feel it._ Her smile disappeared at his response.

"But you look just like one." Silas did not reply to the comment. He did not feel like talking about how he looked. Instead he looked towards the sky. The sun would be coming out from behind the clouds soon. Elizabeth sensed she had said something upsetting and looked down at her feet.

"Why do you believe in God?" Elizabeth quietly asked. Silas glanced at her and caught a glimpse of curiosity in her blue eyes.

"God saved me from a horrible life. He helped me see life in a different light." The girl looked content with the reply. At least for now.

--

Silas was quite heartbroken to see Elizabeth being carried away by her older sister. They had by chance run into her in the zoo. They were laughing at how the otters frolicked in the water when the woman next to them had suddenly shrieked. She had immediately picked up Elizabeth and apologized profusely to Silas for her sister's behaviour and hoped she had not been a hassle to him. She even gave him twenty pounds for his troubles. He could not accept them, but the sister would have nothing of it. She insisted that he kept the money. Elizabeth had afterwards explained in details how they had spent the afternoon. She had run into him, she had walked on her hands, they had eaten ice creams, he had showed her how to tie her shoelaces, he had given her a piggyback-ride all over the zoo and she had told him everything she knew about the animals. The sister had not listened to a single word, but nodded at everything she said as if she had paid attention. And Elizabeth was now being brought back to her family after a few hours of freedom and merriment. Elizabeth winked enthusiastically at him. Silas merely lifted his hand in reply. But for the first time in many years, Silas found himself smiling a genuine smile.


End file.
